The Sirius Chihuahua Problem
by TheHaHaStar
Summary: Sirius Black, escaped convict, estranged friend and lovable stray sees his godson for the first time in too long. Will get get to talk to him? Or is he going to have to wait?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: The Sighting**

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><p>There! There he was, sitting on the curb side, a snowy white owl sitting in its cage next to him. I've waited for so long to see him again. His black hair was as messy as his father's had been. I felt like I was seeing my best friend again. Just thinking about it sent pangs of guilt down my spine, and I let out an involuntary whine.<p>

He must have heard me. But there's no human, un-magically enhanced ear that could've. He stared down the alleyway I was hiding down. He can't see me, I'm sure of it.

As he reaches for his wand (Oh good, his father would be proud his son was so ready and able to defend himself) the smell of fear rolled off him in waves. I could almost hear his heart beat as it increased dramatically.

The tip of his wand lit up just nanoseconds after I hear his voice.

"Lumos."

I was frozen, like a rabbit caught in the headlights. My mind raced. _Merlin's bead_, I thought. _He even _sounds_ like James_. There was nothing I could do but watch him stumble over his trunk, wand arm flying through the air. _Stupidstupidstupid_, I thought.

Next second, there was an almighty BANG as the violently purple Night Bus nearly flattened him. I turned. Ran away. Pining.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Calm**

Trees, fields and rabbit holes had long overtaken the houses and gardens of Harry's neighbourhood. I changed back to my human form, scared of becoming completely canine even when bipedal. Moony seemed to spend half his life assuring me it wouldn't happen, but I never could shake the fear from even the deepest, darkest corners of my mind.

I calmed my breathing, feeling my heart return to its normal speed. _Think, Sirius_, I instructed myself. I itched my head, noting with considerable disgust the build up of grease and knots in my wretched, elbow length hair. I guessed I couldn't always be as dashing as I used to be. Still, if any more grease found its way to my scalp, I'd end up looking like stinky Snivellus. I sighed.

I hoped I hadn't scared Harry too much. But why had he been walking the streets at stupid o'clock? Why was his trunk and owl with him? Hmm, that owl. Lily would've loved it.

Which way was Hogwarts from here? I ducked out from the shelter of the bush, finding everything bathed in a mysterious silvery blue glow. I looked up with mounting dread, saw a thousand tiny stars twinkling cheekily around the moon. The completely, unashamedly, undoubtably _full_ moon.

_Remus_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Breakfast**

I awoke to the sound of birdsong. I rolled out of my ditch. Coughing, I searched for the source of the song. It's unfortunate, but might is right. I changed to my dog shape. All at once, my senses were assaulted by an intensification of smell and sound, my eyes no longer able to see the magnificent reds, oranges and yellow or the mid August sunrise.

Among the new smells I could now sense was one I had grown to love. My lips pulled back from my teeth as I grinned. I wasn't the only one with the local fowl on my mind.

Twenty minutes later, as I hobbled down a half forgotten country lane, I wondered to myself why foxes had to be so damn... well, foxy. They fought back like a bitch. This prompted another wolfish grin to slash my face as I contemplated the double pun.

"He's still got it!" My words came out as short, happy barks, but the message was still there, I was sure of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Barbie Pink**

The hot, midday sun burned my back as I walked. It was unbearable; I felt that there could be nothing better than to simply melt into a puddle, joining my sweaty paw prints, but I struggled on. I had no idea what neighbourhood I was in, having left the country lanes hours ago, and the last traces of breakfast had long disappeared. I hoped there would be an open dumpster around here soon. I couldn't reach the tops on four legs and couldn't risk being seen on two legs.

To my right, a door opened, bringing with it the mouth watering aroma of a good, old fashioned Sunday roast. Mrs. Potter's lovely cooking seemed a million years ago.

"Tilly!" A voice called. I followed it through a gap in the fence. It was lucky I'd gotten so thin.

"Here girl!" She whistled. I hesitated. I could never pass as this domesticated Tilly, since I was quite obviously a stray.

Then I saw Tilly.

She ran forward, bark- no, _yapping _ecstatically. I stared. Her claws scraped and scratched against the weedy paving stones. The Barbie pink claws seemed somehow more repulsive than the remains of the fox earlier that morning. Tilly's huge ears seemed to flap in the nonexistent midday breeze, and her tan coloured muzzle was directed at the stupidly pink bowl of leftovers, so she never saw me. I was relieved; pink claws were one thing, but a chihuahua was another thing altogether.

I backed away, heading back toward the jagged hole in the fence in fence I'd come in through. But I was too late.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: A Saviour?**

"Mummy, mummy, look at the big doggy!"

Aw crap. Crap, crap, and double crap. I could live with wizards, muggles and squibs but small children covered in tacky beads? And – yes, I was right, there was the token white fluffy teddy bear with lilac tee shirt. Muggles.

Sighing, I turned to the girl, and started the hand-muzzling routine I'd spent so much time perfecting. Charitable people were a blessing, they really were. I was barely even listening to the girl's predictable cooing and gurgling.

"Ooo's a good wittle doggy, then?" She crooned.

"Oo's a good wittle sweetums – Mummy, _NO_!"

The left side of my face exploded into a smouldering fire, and my eye was shut tight against an onslaught of oversized pinpricks from hell. My shoulder thudded against a dull grey wheelie bin as I fell back on it. Thankfully the fence behind it made it support my weight. I hadn't even seen that one coming. Dimly, I could hear the stupid rat yapping furiously, and the mother yelling at the beaded toddler.

I raised my head, turning so I could see with my good eye.

But that couldn't be right. I shook my head, convinced the blow had boggled my mind. The mother was brandishing a heavy duty garden broom in her hands, weathered face screwed up as she demanded the girl move out her way. Her brown bob wouldn't have looked out of place on someone twenty years younger. As it was, she looked kind of pathetic.

All I could see of the little girl was the back of her white-blonde bunches on the back of her head. The elastic waistband of her pink three quarter lengths were visible under the bottom of her frilly little girl's tank top.

She was defending me?


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Hope**

"You stupid little girl! What do you think you're doing? Get out of my way! I am _not _going to be picking those fleas off you!"

"Mummy, no! He's a sweetums and he doesn't have feas," she declared crossly.

I felt a surge of gratitude toward my saviour. Was this my ticket to a bath, warmth and food?

" That _thing_ is a filthy mongrel. It needs to be put down for the good of the country." The woman's voice had calmed down now. Calmed to the temperature of the glaciers at either end of the globe. Probably about that safe, too. I whimpered. Man, was I becoming a sissy lately!

"Shane? What's going on?" A male voice carried out from the open doorway. A middle aged man stepped out. He was wearing fishing shorts and a light green polo shirt.

"Where's this one come from?" The man stepped forward.

The woman – Shane? – lowered her sword- broom ,even. My ears pricked up hopefully.

"This filthy mutt must've gotten through the fence you still haven't fixed. I was trying to get rid of it, but your _daughter"_ – the loathing in her voice at this point was horrifying – "won't get out the way." Her voice was deadly sweet, with traces of nails-down-the-blackboard tones that sent chills down my spine, to the very tip of my tail, causing it to curl tightly between my legs. I stared at him imploringly, willing him to believe I was just a lovable stray.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but – "She hurt my sweetums! She hit him! She hurt his face!" She pointed accusingly at the mother as she spoke, then turned quickly, grabbing my face. I didn't have time to register what was going on before she brought my face round for inspection.

The man – her dad, I guessed – studied my face, then his eyes travelled up and down my back and legs. His gaze lingered on the bits of crap littering my fur, the jagged ends of my claws. I pined, hoping I sounded as pathetic as I felt. Then he smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Luxury**

Ten minutes later, I couldn't believe my luck. They'd given me the rest of the roast (which was scrumptious, let me tell you; potatoes the right ratio of crunchy and soft, the meat tender, the gravy soaking into the vegetables – simply perfect) despite Shane's protests, which were actually beginning to annoy me now, I mean, I hadn't done anything to deserve it. I t wasn't my fault Wormtail was such a spineless rat. Shane was charged with the task of making 'found' posters in my honour. I was mystified when she pushed a circle on a greyish black box and it lit up and made noises. Definitely muggles, I decided. I'd heard about the strange contraptions they'd invented so they could live more easily without magic and I resolved to investigate the lively box when I had the chance. I felt a pang of longing when the thought of magic reminded me of my days as a free man. The ministry snapped my wand when they'd charged me. I never even got the pieces back. I sniffed.

I dragged my mind back to the present, just in time to hear 'Daddy' say they'd better give me a bath. I figured this'd be interesting.

The bathroom was a pale green colour, with a pattern of seaweed and muggle-drawn mermaids forming a freeze halfway up the wall. Another pang accompanied her voice floating back over the years. I remembered the endless discussions of what our house was going to be like when we got it.

I got so lost in the memories of my time with Diana. Before I knew what was happening, I could feel a hairbrush forcing its way through my matted fur. It felt like the brush was shaving me bald by ripping out every strand of hair I possessed one by one. I howled in pain.


End file.
